Detroit takes it on the chin

It was a bad day on Brush St. For those even more ignorant than yours truly, which is to say, neanderthalish -- though I feel your pain -- Brush St. is the road that runs between Ford Field, home of the Detroit Lions, and Comerica Park, home of the Detroit Tigers.

To no great surprise, the Tigers got hammered again by the Minnesota Twins. This was, mercifully, the final home game for Version A of the Detroit puddy-tats. Three more games in KC, another three in Minnesota, and manager Brad Ausmus can finally rest in peace. The torture will be over. Whew!!

Anyone who has read this blog in the past knows I used to be a Detroit Lions' fan, but kicked them to the curb the day after former running back Barry Sanders did -- almost two decades ago. He walked away from $8 million dollars -- big money at the time -- and likely the all-time NFL rushing record. But he couldn't take the losing culture any more -- and there was no help in sight. Indeed, the Lions haven't won a single playoff game since #20, a first ballot no-brainer Hall of Famer, hung up his cleats. Good enough for him -- good enough for me. See ya. I like to think we both got out with our brains semi-intact.

Yet on a glorious Sunday afternoon for a sports junkie, yours truly was doing some serious channel-surfing. The Tigers were on. Click. So were the Lions at the same time. Click. So was the Tour Championship of the PGA, with the FedEx cup at stake. Click. So was a NASCAR race in New Hampshire. Plenty of microwaveable left-overs in the fridge, a few brews, and yours truly was in hog heaven.

Mostly, I followed the golf tournament. This was like a game seven of their World Series. Justin Thomas edged out Jordan Spieth for the coveted FedEx cup and the $10 million that goes along with it. Not sure who won the race, because some heathen had the utter audacity to interrupt my nirvana by walking into the house. Well OK, it was my significant other on her way into work dropping me off even more vittles. She can be excused for such a thing, and I really didn't mean it about the heathen thing....... dear. Luv ya.

Click. What's that? The Lions beat the Falcons on the last play of the game? Get outta here. No way could they hang with those guys.

Click. Then off to yon local watering hole where the above-mentioned significant other was tending bar on the night shift. After a quicky stop at the neighborhood florist for a dozen roses. A few brownie points never hurt -- right?

Then I found out the Lions didn't win the game after all. How the hell could that be?

Turns out, before I made my final click, which was to shut off the TV, the crucial play was under review. In the end, it was determined the Lions player that had caught the winning touchdown pass had been down just inches short of the goal line. The replays clearly showed this was the correct call.

Then it got even stranger. Because only 8 seconds were left on the game clock, and because of said review, and also because the Lions had no time-outs left, by rule 10 seconds had to run off the clock.

Eight minus ten means the game is officially over. Oh my. What a way to lose.

I didn't see it, but can imagine the folks in attendance at Ford Field were somewhere between disbelief, frustrated, and apoplectic. In other words -- not happy.

It should also be noted that this watering hole is a gathering place for die-hard Lions fans to watch a big screen televising of their games. Free food at halftime, though usually not very good. The typical slop. Half priced beers after the Lions score. Thing is, that big screen is an outdated projection TV set-up, with a very fuzzy picture. But the faithful flock, forever arguably fuzzy themselves, make the pilgramage to the place whenever their beloved Version B of the Detroit felines are in action.

I stay away during those times, preferring to show up after the rowdies have finally stumbled out.

But I heard they were close to riotous when their Lions somehow managed to snatch defeat out of the jaws of victory in the closing seconds. In other words, these locals weren't exactly happy campers either.

Ah, they'll be OK. And c'mon. What can they really expect? It's the Lions -- remember? Never ever, in all of sports, has a team been more famous, or infamous, than the Lions for leading their fans on -- only to let them down before the season ends. It's just what they do. Always have. Personally, I found it amusing. You'd think they'd learn the Lions are Murphy's Law waiting to happen, but they never do.

All in all, it was a glorious Sunday indeed. Beautiful weather outside for my yorkie boys to romp in, and plenty of stuff on the flat screen to keep dad occupied. And I've got eats for days, which the aforementioned boys always get a few bites of. Throw in the usual back scratches and belly rubs and they love dad.

As for Detroit sports -- not so good.

A bad day on Brush St. indeed.

Worse, the Detroit Red Wings and Pistons will be starting their 2017 seasons shortly too, and both are projected to be, shall we say, somewhere between so-so and terrible.

Know how to tell a sure sign of desperation?

When a team like the Detroit Lions are your best hope at being contenders, your city's in deep trouble on the professional sports front.